Addicted To You

13| Attic

Chapter 13: Attic (Emma's POV)

"Goodnight," I sang, going up to my room after we had dinner. I grabbed my pajamas and went into the bathroom where I changed and brushed my teeth, basically just did everything I do every night. I opened the door and grabbed my hairbrush and brushed through my hair before putting it into a braid. I was humming 'Say my name' by Destiny's Child when I stepped out of the bathroom and into my room. 

I crawled into bed, humming the song, smiling to myself for absolutely no reason, and I grabbed my phone off the nightstand to check Instagram when I noticed shuffling outside the window. There's this one tree. This pretty bushy tree. Which is moving. On its own. My eyes widened as I sat upright, not really knowing what to do. 

Should I go check it out? Should I just ignore it? Should I call someone for help? 

I stood up and ran over to the window, peeking down where I saw someone, definitely a guy, climbing up the tree. I narrowed my eyes, looking at the person carefully. I pushed the window open and stuck my head out. "What the hell are you doing, Nathan?!" I whisper-yelled. He looked up, nearly falling off. "Don't fall off!" I gasped. 

"Fucking hell," he mumbled, climbing up higher. He stopped at the branch closest to my window and sat on it, hesitating to lower his weight on it. "Hi," he grinned. He's drunk. He only grins and smiles at me like that. That cute, kind of lopsided grin. 

"Nathan," I inhaled, "What are you doing here?" 

"Do you have an attic, I really need- whoa shit!" he yelled, almost falling off. 

I leaned out, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in my hand and also clamping my hand over his mouth. "Shh!" I hissed, "What do you need?" I asked, slowly lowering my hand. 

"A place to-" hiccup "Sleep tonight," he mumbled. I pulled back and watched him carefully, slowly pulling my hand away. But then he started falling again. I clicked my tongue, grabbing onto his shirt. 

"Why are you here? Have you asked Brandon?" I whispered. More importantly, why does he need a place to sleep tonight? Did something happen with his dad? They must have had a fight or something. But what about? He wasn't drunk or anything like that. 

"I crash at Brandon's all the time," he pouted, "I think his parents don't like it now." I sighed, looking at him, scanning him up and down, from head to toe. "I'll just... I'll go back if you don't have an attic," he mumbled. 

"What is it with you and attics?" 

"Or a basement. That's where I always crash at Brandon's. He has a bedroom thing going on there," he chuckled, smiling and looking all giddy. 

"Well, the attic is full of boxes right now and the basement... is creepy, I'm not going down there," I mumbled. 

He sighed, "Okay." His shoulders slumped and deflated, he was now frowning. 

"But I've got a guest room." 

He looked up at me, shaking his head slowly, "I can't take a guest room, what if your parents get mad at you?" 

I rolled my eyes, "That's the least of my worries right now. Why don't you come inside, my hand is getting tired, and then I'll see what I can do for you, okay?" I slowly let go and moved back, creating room for him. 

He grabbed onto the windowsill first and then crawled through, dusting his hands when he stepped in. "Whoa, nice room," he mumbled. 

"Thanks, but we're still settling in," I said, closing the window and locking it shut. 

"Maybe I can sleep on the boxes," he giggled. He giggled. It was kind of cute. 

"Then they'll fall through the ceiling," I said sarcastically.